


Echoes

by galaxylane



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Romance, F/M, Post-Season/Series 01, Visions, canon AU, canon-divergent, lyatt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-02-17 02:46:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13067487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxylane/pseuds/galaxylane
Summary: After suffering a minor injury during a time jump, Lucy begins experiencing strange dreams and other things she can't explain. A concerned Wyatt offers to help her get to the bottom of it, which would be helpful if he wasn't the one showing up in her vivid dreams every night.





	1. The Drop

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all,  
> This fic is semi-inspired by Jiya's symptoms in the season 1 finale. I'm having fun writing this one, so I hope you enjoy!

Lucy Preston had never been fond of rollercoasters. Once when she was a kid, her mother had taken both her and Amy to a local amusement park to celebrate the beginning of summer vacation. As the older sister, it had been her job to take Amy on the rides while her mother sat on the benches in an over-sized sunhat and read paperbacks. Amy had loved the rollercoasters the most, throwing up her hands and screaming in delight every time they reached the tipping point on the first drop. Lucy had hated every minute of it, only soldiering through for Amy's benefit. She had never been able to handle the drops and rolls or the pitching sensation in her stomach.

Time travel was so much worse than that.

Lucy gripped the edge of her seat and tried to remind herself to breathe through her nose. Travelling in the Lifeboat was difficult on the best of days, but this was a particularly bad trip. They were making the jump back to the present from 1917, and thanks to an encounter with Emma and her men mid-battlefield, the Lifeboat had sustained considerable damage. Lucy heavily suspected that Rufus would have refused to make the jump at all if they had had any other choice.

The Lifeboat shuddered and she could hear a grinding noise that she was positive wasn't normal. It was hard to tell over the frantic beeping of sensors and monitors. Her eyes widened in alarm and flew up to meet the gaze of Wyatt Logan, strapped in across from her and looking as though he was barely reigning in his own panic. Her hand twitched on the edge of her seat as a metallic screech filled the inside of the cabin. Wyatt's hand moved too, shooting forward to grab hers. For her comfort or his, she wasn't sure, but she held on tightly anyway.

"Rufus?" he yelled over the din.

"We're almost there!" was Rufus' terse response. "You're going to want to hold on to something!"

Her breaths were coming in short pants now, and she tightened her grip on Wyatt's hand. He met her gaze head on and gave a short nod.

Suddenly, she felt a great force pull on her, as though she was on a rollercoaster that had just hit the first steep plunge on the track. All at once, as she felt her body leave the seat and press into the restraints, she felt a snap as the seatbelt gave way. She caught sight of the horrified look on Wyatt's face as her hand was ripped from his, heard the shout of her name.

And then, with a sharp pain in the back of her skull that made her see stars, everything went mercifully black.

*

Lucy's head pounded like a heartbeat. It was the first thing she noticed. The murmur of voices was the second. With considerable effort, she managed to open her heavy lids, flinching at the intensity of the light in the room.

"Bright," she mumbled, narrowing her eyes to slits.

"Lucy?"

"It's too bright for her, turn the lights down."

There was a shuffling sound, and the room dimmed. She relaxed a bit and managed to open her eyes all the way without feeling like her retinas were being stabbed. Wyatt sat on a chair by the side of her bed, watching her intently. She could see Rufus returning from the light switch by the door to sit down on a chair near the foot of her bed. Both men looked tired and Wyatt was sporting a bruise above his left eye, but otherwise neither looked worse for wear.

"We made it?" she asked, her voice sounding hoarse.

"Barely," Rufus supplied with a frown.

"Rufus managed to get us back in one piece," Wyatt said reassuringly. His voice was calm, but she could see him studying her out of the corner of her eye. She wondered fleetingly if she looked as bad as she felt.

"Yeah but not the Lifeboat," Rufus lamented, running a hand over his face.

Lucy shot Wyatt an alarmed look. "What does that mean?"

"The Lifeboat took a lot of damage," he sighed, looking resigned. "They say they can fix it, but it's going to take at least a week. Maybe two."

"Emma could change history in hundreds of ways by then!" she protested, swinging her legs around to the edge of the bed to stand.

"Hey whoa," Wyatt objected, placing a gentle but firm hand on her shoulder. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Emma could change history," she pressed on. "And if we aren't going after her, we won't even know what kind of changes she's making. She could alter something substantial and there would be no one to remember. We can't just sit here."

"Jiya is monitoring Emma's movements," Rufus said. "If Emma makes a move, we'll know. But I don't know that they'll be able to go anywhere for a while either. If we sustained that much damage in the crossfire of the battlefield, they probably did too."

Wyatt nodded. "So now it's just a waiting game." He turned his attention back to Lucy. "It's just as well. You probably wouldn't have been able to make a jump for at least a week anyway."

"What happened?" she asked. She could feel the pain in her head returning after her panic over Emma subsided.

"The harness malfunctioned and snapped during the turbulence. You hit your head on the top of the cabin as we landed," Wyatt explained. She could see guilt clouding his features as he offered quietly, "I tried to grab for you, Lucy. I missed. I'm sorry."

That explained the tenderness at the back of her head. "It's not your fault," she assured him softly. She looked past him to where Rufus was looking similarly conflicted. "It's not yours either. You got us home. I honestly didn't know if we were going to make it."

"Full disclosure?" Rufus sighed. "Me neither."

Wyatt offered up a small smile. "To small victories then. Listen Luce, the doctors say you got a concussion, but that they're confident you'll be back to bossing us around in a few days tops."

She gave him a sarcastic smile before sobering and asking, "What changed? With history, I mean."

"Knew you'd ask that," Wyatt chuckled dryly. He reached into his pocket and handed her his phone, open to a wikipedia article. "Nothing major. Except that both sides of the battle reported seeing some sort of advanced, prototype tank on the battlefield that seemed to disappear before their eyes and was never observed in a battle afterwards. Neither side ever took credit."

Lucy groaned as she thumbed through the article, and Rufus piped up to say excitedly, "There are a _ton_ of conspiracy theories about it. And documentaries. I may have watched one while we were waiting for you to wake up. Want to hear the theories, from least crazy to craziest?"

Lucy chose to laugh, knowing that it could have been much worse. "Yeah, let's hear it."

*

The doctors released her with a clean bill of health and a caution not to overexert herself a day later. Wyatt drove her home and walked her up to her apartment with strict instructions for her to call him if anything felt off or she needed anything. She tried her hardest not to smile at the way he hovered in her doorway at the offer and reminded him once again that he didn't owe her anything for failing to catch her.

"I know," he said, shifting his weight and shoving his hands deep into his coat pockets. "That's not why I'm offering."

She had smiled at that but had dismissed him nonetheless, promising to call if anything came up. They had at least a few days off until either news of Emma surfaced or the Lifeboat was repaired, and Lucy was looking forward to taking the time to get some much needed rest. And for those first few days, everything _was_ fine, other than a small ringing in her ears from time to time.

That is, until the dreams started about a week later.


	2. Dream a little dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucy begins having dreams that she can't seem to shake night OR day. She doesn't know which is worse: the lack of sleep, or not being able to look Wyatt in the eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everyone! This chapter has some mature/sexual content, so just be aware!

_His hands were everywhere._

_Her breath caught in her throat as her back hit the wall of the hallway. She barely had time to regain it before his mouth was back on hers, coaxing it open. She nipped his bottom lip, tugging it once before soothing it with her tongue. He groaned into her mouth, and she felt his hands on the back of her thighs. She let him lift her, instinctively wrapping her long legs around his hips. She tore her mouth away, kissing her way down his jaw line until she found the pulse point at the edge. She sucked at it once, hard, and threw her head back when his hips ground into hers._

_"Wyatt," she gasped._

Lucy sat up in bed suddenly, the comforter pooling at her waist and the remnants of the dream still whispering in her mind. She let out a shaky breath and raked her fingers through her hair. If she didn't know better, she would say she could actually feel her skull throbbing beneath her fingers. She tried swallowing the nausea that came with the headache but the churning in her stomach only persisted. Her forehead was slicked with sweat, and she could feel her sleep shirt sticking to her skin. She waited as the pain in her head slowly subsided and stole a glance at the clock on her nightstand—2:03 in the morning.

Swinging her legs around to the edge of the bed, she walked to her bathroom and flicked the light on. She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and suppressed a cringe. Her face was flushed, her eyes bright despite having just woken up from sleep. Lucy sighed wearily and went about washing her face with cool water.

Lucy wasn't sure where the dreams had come from, but this was the sixth night in a row that she'd woken up this way. She had had dreams of this nature before—hell, who hadn't?—but never this frequent, or this memorable. Not to mention there was the added, awkward layer of the dream partner in question.

It just…it had to be _Wyatt_.

The first night, she had woken up soaked in sweat and clutching her head, sure she could still feel the phantom touch of his fingers on the sensitive skin of her ribs. She was awkward around him the following day, unable to shake the after images of the dream.

Still, it didn't mean anything, she had told herself. It had been a long time since she had had anything even resembling a romantic encounter and Wyatt was her friend, someone she cared about. Plus, she wasn't blind; she knew Wyatt was handsome with his deep blue eyes and easy grin. Her brain had simply chosen the most attractive, available man in her life to remind her that she needed to get laid, that was all. It was a one off.

Except that it wasn't. The dreams had come every night that week. The thing about the dreams that threw her off the most was not the presence of Wyatt—she would be lying if she said that was the first time he'd crept into her mind in such a capacity—it  was that they were incredibly _vivid_. Lucy usually didn't remember much of her dreams when she woke up, and what she did remember was fuzzy at best. Yet _these_ dreams were sharp and perfectly clear. While the content of the dreams themselves varied somewhat, she always woke up sweating and feeling like her head was about to split open. The pain would subside within moments of waking up, but the memories of the dreams she had a hard time forgetting even during waking hours.

Not that she wasn't trying.

Lucy grabbed a towel off the rack and patted her face dry. Feeling less out of sorts now, she went back to bed in hopes to catch a few more hours of sleep before the meeting at Mason Industries in the morning. She only hoped that this time, the sleep was a dreamless one.

It wasn’t.

 

*

 

The head of Mason Industries had a way of speaking that clearly suggested he enjoyed hearing the sound of his own voice. That, coupled with the fact that it was 8:00 in the morning, made his presentation a bit hard to provide with undivided attention. Mason was talking rapidly as he stood at the head of the conference table, explaining the repairs that had been made to the Lifeboat. Agent Christopher was sitting to Lucy's right and listening intently, her eyes as sharp as always. Rufus sat to her left, nodding along and occasionally murmuring his own thoughts about each repair under his breath. Wyatt sat on the other side of Rufus, eyes narrowed as he followed along as best he could to Mason's technobabble.

And Lucy? Lucy's eyes were on Wyatt.

Or, to be more exact, the area where his neck curved into his shoulder. The same spot she could distinctly remember sinking her teeth into the night before as he'd hovered over her in bed— _no, you didn't_ , she reminded herself firmly. It was just a dream. A figment of her imagination. Still, it had _felt_ real. She knew it was crazy, but she would swear she could even remember the taste of his skin.

She heard a quiet throat clearing to her right. Her eyes darted to the side to find Rufus giving her a strange look out of the corner of his eye. She felt a her cheeks warm at having been caught. Beyond him, Wyatt seemed to be still focused on Mason. Lucy diverted her eyes and directed her attention back to the front.

_Focus_ , she chided herself.

But it appeared Mason had finally finished. "Any questions?" he asked.

"Several," Agent Christopher said dryly. She stood to corner the man. Wyatt quickly excused himself to go to the weapons locker, clearly antsy after such a long debrief. Lucy stood to leave as well when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Rufus hovering nearby, looking concerned.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" he questioned, looking a bit unsure of himself.

"Sure," she assented, giving him an encouraging smile. She assumed it had something to do with Jiya's upcoming birthday. Rufus had been trying to bounce gift ideas off both herself and Wyatt for weeks.

"Did something happen? You know, between you and Wyatt?" he asked.

Unbidden, images of naked sweat-slicked skin and fingers twisting into sheets came to mind. She closed her eyes briefly as if to shut them out. When she opened them again Rufus was still rambling.

"...like did you guys have an argument I don't know about? You've been acting weird around him for days now," he finished, looking at her expectantly.

"No, we didn't have a fight," she sighed, and she was glad that she could at least be truthful about that. "Uh, I just...haven't been sleeping well lately. Guess it's starting to get to me. I've been losing focus a lot."

It was the least embarrassing—and closest to the truth—as far as explanations went. Rufus still looked a little skeptical, but she could tell he was going to drop it right before an alarm sounded a moment later.

Lucy felt her heart drop and a twinge at the back of her skull.

Emma.

Following Rufus, she moved quickly towards the main floor and docking station. Across the warehouse, she could see Wyatt doing the same thing. His eyes met hers from across the room and she could see the corner of his mouth curve upwards. She felt a flutter in her stomach and almost faltered in her pace. Almost. Instead, she squared her shoulders and walked faster towards Jiya's station for the debrief. R-rated dreams or not, she had a job to do.

And Lucy Preston was nothing if not good at her job.

*

Quick and relatively uneventful missions were far and in-between, but Lucy found herself incredibly grateful that today had been one of those days. She made her way to the area of the warehouse where they kept the extensive wardrobe, draping the dress over one arm. She could see the attendant shuffling around in the back and so she waited patiently, her eyes roving over the racks. A soft looking button up blouse caught her eye and she reached out to touch it.

_She gasped when she heard some of the buttons of her shirt pop free and hit the floor._

_"That was my favorite shirt," she said, trying her best to sound indignant. Any ire she may have had was quickly lost in a moan as Wyatt mouthed his way between her breasts and down her navel._

_"I'll get you a new one," he assured her._

_"Promise?" she laughed breathlessly._

Lucy released the blouse with a guilty start. What was _wrong_ with her? She couldn't even get the dreams out of her head during the day. The attendant rounded the corner and greeted her with a smile that Lucy was too distracted to catch.

"Ma'am?" the wardrobe staff prompted her, his hands held out for her hanger.

_"Yes ma'am," Wyatt chuckled, and she could feel the rumble of it against the skin of her inner thigh. She threaded her fingers through his hair, her head falling back as he—_

"Are you okay, ma'am?" the man asked, eyeing her glassy eyes and flushed face with concern.

"I'm fine," she replied, her voice strangled. She shoved the outfit into his waiting hands. "And don't call me 'ma'am'."

She turned on her heel to leave and noticed Wyatt a few rows over returning his own clothes, watching her with concern. She faked a bright smile and continued towards the exit.

By the time she got home to her apartment, she had a notification for a missed call. Wyatt. Lucy bit her lip and guiltily swiped the notification away. She knew she couldn't avoid him outside of work forever. She didn't _want_ to. It had been a weird two weeks, and cutting out those closest to her wasn't helping. With that in mind, she decided to return his call in the morning and do her best to stamp out the awkwardness that had been growing between them. The resolution eased her guilt, and she felt somewhat lighter as she set about making supper.

 

 

 

That night her dream was different.

_It was dark where she was, so dark that she could barely see the outline of her own legs draped across the seat in front of her. She wasn't sure if it was the pressing darkness or something beyond her current comprehension, but she felt an overwhelming sense of claustrophobia.  Lucy tried to move, only to find herself pinned in place. Her hands went to her chest. A seatbelt._

_She realized with sudden horror that she knew exactly where she was._

_She was in the damn car, in the middle of that lake._

_Get out, get out now! her brain screamed. Her fingers tugged at the belt with more urgency, but it didn't budge. Her breath came in short pants, tears stinging her eyes._

_"Keep trying Lucy," she whispered to herself, at the same time grappling with the dawning realization that she may already be too late._

Lucy sat up in bed, one hand braced against her pounding head and the other pressed tightly to her chest. She was hyperventilating. Determined to calm down before she worked herself into a panic, she tried to focus on slowing her breathing. Mentally, she counted to eight on each inhale and exhale until her breathing and her heart rate had slowed down enough that she no longer felt like a panic attack was imminent.

Lucy leaned forward in exhaustion and buried her head in her hands. Strange. It had been a long time since she had dreamed about her near drowning. It had happened once or twice after her encounter with H.H. Holmes, but prior to that it had been nearly a year since it had crept into her dreams. She's not sure what would have happened recently to cause it to crop up again.

With a shaky exhale, she moved to the bathroom in search of painkillers for her still aching head. After downing two with a trembling hand, she laid back down and waited for sleep to claim her again. Instead, she found herself staring at the ceiling, feeling wide awake and unable to shake a lingering sense of dread. And for the first time in seven days, the reason she can't sleep had nothing to do with Wyatt Logan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and reviews are always appreciated :) Much more Wyatt next chapter, I promise!
> 
> Next chapter: Wyatt realizes something is going on with Lucy, and Lucy's dreams aren't the only weird thing happening in her life.


	3. Remember When

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something happens that is stranger than Lucy's dreams, and Wyatt just wants to know what's going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all,  
> So sorry for the hiatus. Real life got so busy for a while that I had no energy or time for writing. However a lull at uni and that INSANE promo (I've still not recovered) gave me the boost I needed to get back on track. Hopefully there isn't too many mistakes...I wanted to post before heading to work for the midnight shift. As always, thank you for taking the time to read :)

Wyatt almost always took first watch on an overnight mission.

He preferred it, really. He often had trouble sleeping even under the best conditions, and the extended watches gave him a chance to tire himself out. Wyatt leaned back against the fallen tree trunk and stirred some of the embers of their dying fire with a nearby stick. Satisfied that none of them would freeze to death for the next few hours, his eyes swept around their makeshift camp before landing on his team mates across the fire.

The thing about spending so much time with someone on missions was that you got to know their habits pretty well. Rufus was sound asleep a few feet away, laying on his side facing away from the fire. Rufus was a restless sleeper. Wyatt was only sure he was asleep from the soft snores and occasional mutter under his breath. Rufus often talked in his sleep, quiet utterances that ranged from what sounded like the tail end of calculations to murmurs about Jiya. He also tended to sprawl when he slept and rarely stayed in one position for too long. Lucy on the other hand, was typically a quiet sleeper, either on her back with one arm raised over her head or curled on her side, but once she settled into one position she would usually stay that way all night.

Tonight however she was restless, tossing and turning.

Something was going on with Lucy. Wyatt was sure of it, despite the reassuring smiles she had taken to sending his way as of late.

He had noticed it shortly after her accident. Lucy was usually good at staying sharp, especially when they jumped. She was the know-how, their key to blending in to wherever they were sent, and Lucy tended to take that role very seriously. Except that lately she had tendency to check out. He would catch her staring off into the distance, face vacant and eyes blank. Whenever someone tried to get her attention she'd startle like someone snapping out of sleep, blushing and stammering out an apology.

He was also pretty sure she had been purposely avoiding him at one point. There had been an entire week when she had seemed to dodge him at every opportunity. He wasn't sure what he could have done to warrant avoidance, but whatever it was seemed to have passed as one day she came to Mason Industries and it was like nothing had ever happened.

Of course, he supposed it was hard to ignore someone when you were required to spend days on end with them.

She was moving a lot now. By the light of the fire, he could see her face scrunching in displeasure, brows furrowing. She made a noise that sounded like a whimper, her hand coming up paw at her chest.

 _Nightmare_ , he thought.

He was on his feet and walking to her before he could reconsider, kneeling down beside her. Up close, he could now see that her forehead was covered in a sheen of sweat. Briefly, he worried that maybe she had fever too. Placing a hand on her upper arm, he rocked her gently.

"Lucy," he whispered, "wake up."

She woke with a start, gasping as though she were coming up for air. Her eyes were wild and darting, still not comprehending the transition from sleep to wake. He let go of her immediately, holding his hands up in a placating manner.

"It's okay," he assured her, watching as recognition dawned on her. "You were having a bad dream."

Lucy sat up slowly. "Nightmare," she muttered, wincing as she lowered her head into her hands.

Wyatt frowned at the display of pain but gave her a moment to collect herself. When she finally lifted her head back up she looked exhausted, her face still pale and clammy.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he offered. His tone was deceptively light, leaving a clear out to refuse.

For a moment it seemed like she might, her mouth opening and on the verge of forming the word 'no', but she hesitated. A moment later she said quietly, "I was dreaming about my accident."

"Your car accident?"

"Yeah," she sighed, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I have been off and on for more than a week now. I keep thinking I'm back in the car in the dark. My seat belt is jammed and I can't get free." The inhale she took was a bit uneven. "I've dreamed about the accident before, but it just feels so real. Like it isn't just a dream, like I'm actually there. I looked it up, and apparently vivid dreams aren't uncommon after a concussion, but..."

"But?" he prompted, face serious and attentive.

"I don't know," she admitted. "It just all feels odd. Off. I don't know how to explain it."

"And the headaches?" he questioned.

She looked surprised only briefly but didn't bother to deny it. "Every time I have a dream. They don't last long. Also a post-concussion symptom, I guess."

Wyatt frowned at that. "Lucy, if you're having severe headaches you should go see a doctor. You don't want to treat a head injury lightly."

"Maybe," she said, but he could tell she was hesitant.

"Even if it's just with someone from Mason's medical team," he prompted gently. "At the very least, if they agree with you that it's all typical post-concussion symptoms then it might take some of the stress off you."

"You're right. I know you're right," she sighed. The last of the pain in her head had finally ebbed away and she stifled a yawn. "I can take my watch now, if you want to get some sleep."

Wyatt was shaking his head before she even finished speaking. "You only slept two hours. Get a couple more and I'll wake you up when my shift ends."

Too tired to protest, she sent a grateful smile his way and leaned back onto the makeshift mat to get some sleep before it was her turn to sit watch.

 

 

_She could see the tension in his bare shoulders from across the room where he stood staring out the window at the night sky. She went to him, her hand sliding between his shoulder blades as though she could wipe the stress away with a single touch. He didn't turn, but she heard his soft exhale._

_"What are you doing?" she murmured._

_"Couldn't sleep," was his reply. When he didn't look at her, she placed her hand on the side of his face and gently turned him to face her. He was worried about tomorrow, she could see it in his eyes. No wonder he couldn't sleep. She knew she couldn't alleviate his anxiety completely, but she could give it a shot._

_"Can't sleep, huh?" she said softly, her hands gliding their way from his face down the sides of his neck to his shoulders. His eyes closed at the soft touch but she didn't stop there, sweeping her way down his chest and abdomen until her fingers dipped underneath the waistband of his sleep pants. Wyatt's head fell forward with a sigh as her fingers encircled him._

_"Lucy," he moaned._

 

"Lucy, we have to get moving."

The gentle hand on her shoulder was enough to jolt her awake and she went still, still reeling from the headache. She pressed her lips together without opening her eyes and gave a quick nod. When she felt ready to open her eyes she was met with early morning light. She turned her eyes on the two men packing up their meager camp. Both looked a little more tired than usual and both were steadfastly avoiding her gaze. They'd stayed up later to cover her watch, letting her sleep through the night, she realized. She felt twin peaks of affection at their kindness and frustration that they had picked up on her exhaustion. She'd thought she was doing a pretty good job of hiding it.

Apparently not.

"Sleep well?" Wyatt murmured under his breath when she stopped to help him cover up the fire.

_"Can't sleep?"_

She ducked her head and nodded, hoping he couldn't see the red tint of her cheeks.

*

Things would have probably-well,  _maybe_ -gone smoothly if it weren't for Emma, who had taken it upon herself to alert the sheriff and several other parties of a dangerous object in the woods. Lucy wasn't sure exactly what she'd told them, but whatever it was had been enough to convince them to bring guns and a few sticks of dynamite.

They'd arrived just a few minutes after the men, who were already clustered around the Lifeboat, prodding it and shaking their heads. The three of them ducked out of sight behind a large boulder.

"They have explosives," Rufus groaned. He looked at the other two. "If they damage it…"

"Any ideas?" Wyatt prompted.

Rufus tilted his head, shaking it slowly. "I…I've got nothing."

"I do," Lucy said quietly, realization dawning on her face. She looked up at the two men. "Rufus, the alarms."

"What alarms?" Wyatt asked.

"The distress signal in the control panel," she explained. "It's a modification by Mason after the Mothership was stolen. It can't send a message through time but if the Lifeboat were to reappear in the present in a bad place or get stolen it makes sure that Mason finds it."

Rufus looked at her in surprise. "That could work," he nodded. He turned to Wyatt. "I'm going to need you to get me inside the Lifeboat first."

Wyatt nodded and slipped away into the woods. Lucy and Rufus waited with baited breath until they heard the sound of a gunshot crack through the woods. Lucy peered around the boulder at the small clearing. The men around the Lifeboat shouted in surprise, drawing their guns and moving away from the time machine and towards the direction of the sound. Lucy prodded Rufus, who used the distraction to slip unnoticed around the clearing and climb into the Lifeboat. Not seconds after the door shut behind him, the men returned, seemingly not having found a trace of Wyatt.

Lucy grinned in relief when a second later a piercing screech cut the air accompanied by a rapid bright flash. It was startling and strange enough that the men retreated almost immediately into the woods. She could just barely hear the sounds of shouts and hooves disappearing into the distance over the shrill sounds of the Lifeboat. They would be back, but the Lifeboat would be gone when they returned. Wyatt appeared at her side just as the Lifeboat's door slid open and Rufus stepped out.

"It worked?" he asked breathlessly, meeting them halfway.

"It worked," she confirmed. Rufus' shoulders slumped in relief.

"That was brilliant," Wyatt laughed. He turned to Lucy with a wide smile. "How did you come up with that?"

Lucy barked a disbelieving laugh as well. "What you don't remember? It's the same stunt we pulled in 1814 against the British."

The second it came out of her mouth, she knew she had somehow said something wrong. Wyatt's elated face suddenly turned hesitant, and he looked over his shoulder at Rufus, who looked bewildered. Wyatt turned back to face her, and she could tell he was trying hard not to look concerned.

"You're saying we did this before?" he asked carefully.

"Of course," she insisted. "It was during the second war for American independence. We got trapped in between the British allies and American militia and you," she continued, jabbing a figure towards Wyatt, "said we needed a distraction. So Rufus and I came up with this, and it worked then just like it worked now. I can't believe you guys don't remember this."

"Lucy," Rufus said slowly, "that…never happened."

She felt confusion and foreboding in equal parts. "What are you talking about? Of course it did."

"Lucy." Wyatt frowned and shook his head. "It didn't."

"We've never been to 1814," Rufus supplied, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Lucy gaped at them both. Of course they had. She could still clearly remember the scent of the militia's campfires drifting through the woods, the distant shouts of soldiers. She could almost feel Wyatt's hand in hers, guiding her over the heavy fallen logs that kept catching on her long dress. She could picture Rufus' victory grin as they watched the soldiers retreat into the darkness, fleeing the piercing alarm, feel Wyatt tug her towards him to kiss her in relief—

Oh.

 _Not real,_ her mind whispered.

"You're right," she forced out through numb lips. "I…I don't know what I was thinking. I must have remembered wrong."

She turned on her heel and marched quickly back towards the Lifeboat, determined to get away before they saw the panic bringing tears to her eyes. She ignored the shouts of her name and climbed into the time machine, collapsing into her seat with a shaky sigh.

She hadn't dreamed about 1814. That she was sure of. She could remember every damn dream she'd had since they had started with unsettling clarity, and not once had they ever involved being trapped between two armies in the woods of Michigan. Something was wrong. She could feel it in the pit of her stomach and the ache of her head. Lucy took a deep breath and composed herself. There was nothing she could do here, not in the woods a century from home.

Rufus appeared in at the entrance of a the Lifeboat a moment later and gave her a small albeit unsure smile before climbing into the pilot's seat. Wyatt was close behind, sitting down across from her. She steadfastly avoided his gaze. She could hear Rufus flipping switches, preparing to start the process of bringing them home. Lucy hesitated, her hand lingering on her harness. Wyatt leaned forward in his seat, gently moving her hands aside and fastening her belt for her. It had been a long time since he had helped her with that, especially since she had been in and out of the Lifeboat enough by now that she finally knew how to manage the belt by herself. When he leaned back into his own seat he tilted his head to the side, his eyes catching hers.

"Lucy?" he prompted.

She shook her head. "I'm fine," she lied. "Just tired. Let's go home."

Wyatt said nothing, only gave a short nod. As the Lifeboat hummed to life around them, Lucy shut her eyes, her fingers closing around the straps of the harness as she waited for home.

*

_She couldn't get free. Her fingers tugged uselessly at the belt around her waist. Time was running out. She could die here, in the darkness._

_"Keep trying Lucy."_

The first rap at the door was enough to jerk her out of sleep. She rolled to the side instantly, overwhelmed by the nausea induced by the pain in her head. She gripped the side of the couch cushion, realizing belatedly that she must have fallen asleep watching TV.

The knocking persisted. When she felt well enough to stand, Lucy made her way to her apartment door and took a quick glance through the peephole.

Wyatt.

She opened the door for him, giving him a puzzled smile. "Hi."

"Hey," he said softly, his eyes sweeping the length of her. He lingered on her face and she was sure he was taking stock of her sleep mussed hair and the dark circles that had begun to form under her eyes. "I'm sorry, I know it's late. Can I come in?"

"Yeah, of course."

She stood aside and Wyatt moved a few paces into her apartment, his back to her as he studied her place. Lucy latched the door behind him.

"Not that I mind the visit, but is something going on?" she asked curiously. Wyatt didn't usually drop by unannounced.

He turned to face her, his expression grim. "That’s actually what I came here to ask you. And don't say nothing," he said firmly when she started to protest. She fell silent. "I know something is going on with you aside from the lack of sleep. You've been acting strange for weeks now and today you were convinced we'd made a jump that never happened. Lucy, what's going on?"

His face was serious, and she could read the concern in his gaze from across the room. Lucy bit her lip.

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Lucy lets Wyatt in on her predicament and the two seek help from an unlikely source.
> 
> Comments/kudos are always appreciated! :)


	4. Questions and answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wyatt joins Lucy on a quest for answers, and Lucy reveals more than she intended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all,  
> Surprise! This has not been abandoned, was just put on an unplanned hiatus until my semester ended yesterday.  
> Something I want to note: I struggled with updating this a bit as the show has actually been exploring a similar arc with Jiya (which was the initial inspiration at the end of season 1, though I didn't realize how similar the show was going to be to what I had planned when it picked up in season 2). I hesitated with this fic because they are so similar in terms of storyline and I wasn't sure if I should continue or find a way to work the current show canon in. But I would hate to leave things unfinished, so I will be continuing with this but be warned there is likely going to be some similarities (though this is now offically canon-AU). Hopefully I've got enough surprises up my sleeve to keep it interesting though :)

She gave him the truth. Well, most of it. A slightly abridged version, but one that Lucy felt allowed her to keep a little bit of her dignity.

"So let me get this straight," Wyatt said, leaning forward so that his elbows rested on his knees. He sat on the edge of couch, eyes fixed on her sitting across from him in her favourite reading chair. "You've been having life-like dreams since you hit your head, and now they're happening even when you're awake?"

"Yes," she nodded. "Well, not today though. That was…different."

"How so?"

"When I dream," she said slowly, "It's clear, like it's happening right now. Today was like a memory that I was recalling. Like it had happened weeks ago."

Wyatt's brow was furrowed in concentration as he thought. "And the dreams…they're always nightmares?"

Lucy hesitated for only the briefest of moments. "Pretty much," she lied, looking down at the cup of tea in her hands. She felt guilty about it only momentarily. Sure, the dreams involved him more often than not but those dreams were less pressing to her than the ones in which she was trapped and reliving her accident.

Or the ones that didn't appear to be dreams at all.

A slow exhale from Wyatt made her look up from the rim of the mug that she was tracing her finger around, deep in thought. When her eyes met his he said, "You need to go to a doctor."

She'd been expecting that response, but the thought still made her stomach churn. Her hesitation must have shown on her face, because he quickly deduced, "You don't want to go. Why?"

She was silent for a moment. "What if I tell them about the things I'm seeing and they tell me I can't go back into the Lifeboat?"

He looked troubled by this thought too, but pressed, "Would that be so bad?"

"Honestly? Yes. I have to help finish this. I know what Rittenhouse is capable of, what they've _done_. People have died, had their futures stolen from them, been erased from existence because of Rittenhouse. And whether I like it or not it's my legacy." She saw Wyatt start to protest, to come to her defense, but quickly cut him off. "No, it is. My family is Rittenhouse. I don't have to be okay with it but I do have to do something about it. I have to see this through, Wyatt, _I have to_."

Her fervent speech seemed to have done the trick. Wyatt looked resigned, and if she wasn't mistaken, more than a little impressed.

"Okay," he agreed slowly, "but if you won't tell them about the dreams, at least tell them about the headaches. This way they'll at least do another scan. It might put your mind at ease for the time being."

"For the time being?"

"Yes," he said, and now it was his turn to look determined. "But if things start to get worse and you don't do anything, Lucy, I'll go to Mason and Agent Christopher and tell them myself."

*

Lucy made an appointment with one of the medical staff at Mason Industries the next day at Wyatt's urging, citing continuing headaches and brightly telling the medical receptionist that she 'just wanted to be diligent' after a head injury. Wyatt had offered to go with her, but she'd refused. She didn't want to raise any doubts that this was anything other than a follow-up, and having him pacing in the hallway might have aroused suspicion. The doctor had given her an MRI and cheerfully told her that she was recovering nicely from the bump on the head, and that headaches weren't uncommon and would likely go away on their own within the next few weeks. He had then pressed a prescription for painkillers into her hand and told her to take one the next time her headaches were preventing her from sleeping. She'd taken the slip of paper and smiled blandly, thinking of the pounding in her head earlier that morning after a particularly vivid dream about being trapped in the dark, strapped into the car unable to get free.

Lucy left the appointment and travelled to her apartment feeling out of sorts. She felt like there should be some relief at the news that there was nothing concerning about her brain scans, but all it did was raise more questions. If it wasn't the result of her head injury, why was she experiencing the vivid dreams? More worrying—why was she remembering things that had never happened? The questions swirled around in her mind for the entire drive and all the way to her front door.

She was barely home for twenty minutes when there was a knock on her door. Wyatt stood on the welcome mat in the hallway with two takeout cups in hand—coffee for him, vanilla latte for her.

"How did it go?" he asked, sounding apprehensive.

"It went-fine," she said haltingly. At his questioning look she elaborated, "They didn't find anything. They said everything was normal." She fished the bottle of painkillers out of her purse. "They gave me these for the headaches."

"You're still worried," he noted.

She hesitated. "Yes. If it's not a brain injury, then what is it?"

Wyatt's frown deepened. "You're thinking it's something else."

"The dreams I could pass off as a post-concussion symptom, but the memory of something that no one else remembers…" Lucy set her latte aside on the counter, crossing her arms over her chest. "I've been looking at this as coming from the head injury itself, but what if I've just been ignoring the other major factor?"

Recognition dawned in his eyes. "You were in the Lifeboat. You think this has something to do with the fact that you got hurt mid-jump."

"Maybe," she nodded, relieved he was following her logic. Maybe it wasn't as farfetched as she had convinced herself on the drive home.

"So then we do have to talk to Mason," he concluded. "They had other test pilots before Rufus and us, he has to have files on each of them and their experiences post-time jumps."

"Not Mason," she said reflexively.

Wyatt looked exasperated. "Then who, Lucy? It's not like we can call up Emma while we chase her through history and ask her if she's been having headaches and strange dreams."

"I have an idea," she murmured. "But you're not going to like it."

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What?"

"Well there is someone else who has extensive time travel experience and whose whereabouts we actually _do_ know…" she trailed off.

Wyatt's eyes closed with a sigh. "No. No way."

"I know what you're going to say," she interjected. "But I think he can help us. As messed up as it is, I think we're all on the same side now."

Frustrated, Wyatt dragged a hand over his face. "Lucy, he's dangerous. We don't know if we can trust him."

"I know," she said. "I don't agree with his methods but he was right about Rittenhouse. He never lied to us about that. And I think he might have even trusted me before Agent Christopher double-crossed him."

She watched Wyatt contemplate her words with a frown. "I'm not asking for approval," she continued quietly, "but I wouldn't mind the company."

His shoulders slumped and he gave her a wry smile, "Of course."

*

Lucy wasn't sure how Wyatt convinced the guard to let them in to see him, only that he had told her to wait outside after the long drive to the prison and returned a few minutes later with a disgruntled guard who informed that they had ten minutes tops, so they had better make things quick. The guard had stopped at the start of the hallway and gave them verbal directions to the solitary cell at the end. Lucy wondered momentarily if his refusal to take them the whole way had to do with not wanting to be seen letting them talk to Garcia Flynn or something to do with Flynn himself.

She set off down the hall, her stomach in knots at the possibility that she might finally get some answers. That was best-case scenario. Worse-case was Flynn would stonewall them completely, and she couldn't say she would blame him. She turned on her heel before they reached the doorway, causing Wyatt to stop short behind her to avoid a collision. "I think it might be better if I go in by myself."

He looked unsurprised by her request, though she could tell he wasn't happy about it. Wyatt had never trusted Flynn, and she supposed she couldn't blame him, particularly after his ill-fated attempt to save his wife on Flynn's faulty intelligence. 

"I've got this," she assured him. When he looked hesitant she said, "I know you don't trust him, but trust me, okay?"

"Fine," he agreed. He gave her a pointed look, "I'll be right out here."

Lucy gave him a reassuring smile and gave his arm a quick squeeze as she slipped past him into the room.

He looked up once as she entered. His face remained blank and he almost immediately returned to his meal, ignoring her completely. Lucy swallowed once. She supposed she wasn't surprised.

"I know you're upset," she began, "but I want you to know that I had no idea I was being followed that day."

Flynn went about cutting into his dry slab of meat, clearly hell-bent on pretending she wasn't there.

"I didn't break our deal," she continued firmly. "I know you probably don't believe me, but I _am_ sorry. And I need your help."

Flynn looked up finally, though his expression did not waver from cool detachment. Lucy took this as a sign of encouragement and took a step closer.

"I need to ask you something about time travel," she said.

Flynn regarded her for a moment before looking past her to the empty doorway. "Hello, Wyatt."

Lucy looked over as Wyatt rounded the corner. He came to lean against the wall next to the doorway, his expression stony.

"Now that we're all here," Flynn sighed, setting his plastic cutlery onto the tray. "What did you want to ask?"

Lucy sat on the bench across from his cell and leaned forward earnestly. "When you were travelling in the Mothership, did you ever experience any…symptoms?"

Flynn's eyes narrowed slightly. "Symptoms?"

"Like…headaches? Or strange dreams?" she pushed.

"What kind of dreams?" he asked.

Lucy's eyes darted to Wyatt and back again in an instant. "Um, really vivid ones. Sometimes it's something that's happened before. Other times it's things that never happened, but the headaches always come after."

She watched his expression closely for signs of recognition, but he only looked thoughtful.

"That's not the only thing," Wyatt piped up. He gave Lucy a meaningful look.

"Right," she sighed. "A few days ago I remembered something. Or I thought I did, only no one else who was there remembered it. It's like it never happened, but I remember it so clearly. Not like a dream, like I lived it."

Flynn was watching her carefully now, but his expression had gone back to unreadable.

"Does any of this mean anything to you?" Wyatt asked, his mouth turned downwards in a frown.

"Riemann," Flynn said eventually, leaning back a bit.

"What does that mean?" Wyatt questioned, pushing off the wall and coming to stand beside Lucy.

"He worked for me for a while when I had the Mothership," Flynn shrugged. "After a few weeks he started complaining about headaches. Wasn't sleeping. Talked about things that hadn't happened. I take it this is what you're looking for?" he said to Lucy.

She nodded. "What happened to him?"

"He died," Flynn said simply, folding his arms. At the stricken look on her face he shook his head, looking amused. "Not from that, Lucy, you can relax. He was shot by a drunk in a bar in 1842."

Lucy felt herself deflate in disappointment. "So you never found out what was happening."

"No."

"But I'm sure you have ideas," Wyatt prodded, his voice icy.

Flynn smiled at that. "It's possible."

"And?"

Flynn ignored him and turned back to Lucy. "No one really knows what the long-term physical cost of time travel is. Aside from the three people in this room there are only a handful of others out there alive who have made multiple trips through time."

"So you think this is some sort of side effect?" she frowned.

He sat back in his cell and gave a non-committal shrug. "I guess I'll have to think on it. Why don't you come back in a few days? Maybe if you bring me something it will help me think."

"Like what?" Wyatt asked harshly.

"I don't know," he responded with a smirk that didn't reach his eyes. "A way out of here, perhaps. I'm sure you'll think of something."

*

Wyatt was still muttering under his breath by the time they reached her apartment late that evening. "What an _asshole_ —"

"Can you blame him?" she sighed, unlocking her front door. "He thinks we sent him to prison and kept him from bringing his family back."

Wyatt made a noncommittal noise, and she could tell that that was the closest she was going to come that night in winning an argument regarding Garcia Flynn. She dropped her purse on her chair, fighting back a yawn. He saw it anyway and gave her a sympathetic smile. "You've gotta be exhausted. I can go, let you get some rest—"

"No." It slipped out before she could stop it, surprising them both. Wyatt paused as she continued, "I mean, it's late and you've spent half the day driving. You can stay, if you want. I've fallen asleep on my couch grading papers enough times to know that it is surprisingly comfortable."

The ghost of a smile appeared at that. "I mean, I don't want to impose…"

"You wouldn't be," she said firmly. Truth be told, it had been nice to have his support today, to not have to worry about masking the pain from her headaches or pretending everything was normal. Maybe it was selfish, but she wouldn't mind stretching that feeling of comfort out for just a bit longer. Maybe she might actually get some rest.

"Okay," he agreed, a soft smile tugging at the sides of his mouth. Feeling a strange relief, she excused herself down the hall to go grab some blankets. When she returned, Wyatt's plaid button-up and jacket had been folded neatly over the side of the couch, leaving him in a light grey t-shirt and jeans. He was standing by the couch, looking a touch awkward.

She gently pushed the comforter into his waiting hands.

"Thank you, ma'am," he murmured. Lucy felt a small frisson of pleasure at the word, remnants of intimate dreams whispering at the back of her mind. She turned on her heel quickly, throwing a placating smile over her shoulder as she disappeared into her bedroom.

"Night, Wyatt."

"Goodnight, Lucy."

 

 

It was hours later when he woke. At first, he wasn't sure what woke him, other than the gut feeling that something required his attention. His hand reflexively went to his hip for a weapon that wasn't there. He blinked in confusion when he opened his eyes to the sight of Lucy's darkened living room instead of his own bedroom.

_"Wyatt."_

"Lucy?" her name left his mouth before he was even fully awake. He sat up on the couch, looking in the direction of her bedroom door. He got to his feet, sure he had heard his name.

"Wyatt."

Yes, he was definitely hearing his name. Concerned now, Wyatt crossed the living room and hesitated only briefly before he pushed the bedroom door open. Lucy was still in bed, clearly asleep. She was mumbling something unintelligible in her sleep, her head moving side to side. Her brow furrowed and she let out a soft whimper. She was having a nightmare again, he realized. He crossed the room to her and sat down on the edge of her bed, his  hand going to her shoulder.

"Lucy," he whispered, "wake up." When she didn't respond, only shuddered under his touch, he raised his voice a fraction, "Lucy, wake up."

She sat up with a gasp. Her forehead nearly collided with his before he grasped her upper arms to steady her, stopping her only inches away from his face. Her breath was laboured, chest heaving and eyes wild. Wyatt opened his mouth to assure her it was just a nightmare when he finally got a good look at her face and realized with a jolt that what he saw there wasn't fear at all. His mind raced as he took in her appearance—dilated pupils, red cheeks, lips parted. He'd thought she was in pain or scared, but it was quite the opposite.

_Oh._

All of which would have, under normal circumstances, caused him to do the gentlemanly thing and backpedal out of the room, pretending nothing had happened. _Would_ have, if it wasn't for one very specific sticking point.

She'd said _his_ name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Lucy has some explaining to do, and her the dreams about her accident take a surprising turn.
> 
> Comments/kudos are always appreciated :)


	5. Into Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wyatt learns more than he expected and Lucy's memories surface at the worst possible moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all,  
> Holy shit that finale though. If we don't get a season 3 I will be devastated. I hope this update helps if anyone is suffering post-finale blues like I am. This one was difficult for me to write - I kept deleting what I had because I wasn't happy with it, but I could do that forever if I let myself, so here we are! PS - Chapter 6 is already half completed and I'm really excited about it.

_The closet was a bit cramped to be honest, but she was hardly complaining._

_Lucy barely registered the twitch of her leg kicking out, but the sound of a broom clattering to the ground made her eyes fly open._

_His chuckle was low against her shoulder but Wyatt never slowed his pace as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the crook of her neck. "You're gonna get us caught, Professor."_

_The nickname brought a breathless laugh, cut short by a muffled moan as he hitched her leg higher over his hip._

_The one leg still keeping her upright had begun to tremble with the effort. Wyatt seemed to notice her struggle, as his hand slid over the curve of her hip and down to the back of her thigh, lifting her leg so that it too settled around his waist. She was now pinned between the wall and his body. The new angle sent him deeper, and it wasn't long before Lucy knew she was on the precipice. She dug her finger nails into his shoulder, his name a whimper on her lips. And then, with one last powerful roll of his hips, she tumbled over the edge._

_Lucy threw her head back, eyes closed tight and hand pressed tightly over her mouth to keep from making any noise._

When she opened her eyes again, Wyatt was still inches away. For a fraction of a second, Lucy's mouth began to turn upwards in a small, lazy smile. Only, oddly, he wasn't grinning back at her like she would have expected. Also gone was his unbuttoned suit and loosened tie, replaced by a gray t-shirt. Lucy froze, confusion flitting across her face. Then she paled.

_No._

_No no no._

"Wyatt?" she croaked.

Wyatt felt rather like the air had been sucked out of the room at the initial sight of her flushed face and sated grin, but the dawning mortification on Lucy's face served as the nudge he needed and he stood quickly, taking several steps away from the bed.

"I…uh. Sorry, I'll just…" Wyatt trailed off and turned on his heel, moving back to the living room.

Lucy watched Wyatt's retreat and the door swinging shut behind him. She let out a shaky exhale and dropped her head into her hands, partly at the throbbing headache, partly in shear humiliation.

This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening.

How long had he been there? How much could he know?

She let out a strangled groan, muffled by her palms. This was her own damn fault, she decided. This was her punishment for glossing over the dreams in the first place. She'd thought she could get away with leaving this part out, and it had come back to haunt her.

Once her headache had subsided she took a deep, steadying breath. She supposed she owed him some sort of explanation.

 

 

 

In the living room, Wyatt was having an small crisis.

He'd walked in on Lucy. Clearly having a sex dream. In which he had apparently played a part.

What the hell was he supposed to do with that information?

Sure, in _theory_ it wasn't a huge deal. It wasn't like he hadn't had the occasional R rated dream about her before, like after that unexpected undercover kiss. Or after she had saved both him and Rufus from H.H. Holmes.

Or a number of other nights that he had firmly pushed from his mind in favor of keeping one of his closest friendships from becoming strained or weird.

The point was, those kind of dreams happened whether they were wanted or not and Wyatt knew that better than anyone. Lucy was already dealing with so much, the last thing he wanted was for her to feel embarrassed or uncomfortable around him. This didn't have to be a big deal, he decided, even if the knowledge that she'd dreamed of him in that capacity would likely be rattling around in his brain for quite some time.

Wyatt looked up as the creak of the bedroom door announced her arrival. Lucy stood in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. She'd taken the time to throw on her robe which was now fastened almost comically tightly. She cleared her throat once, awkwardly.

"How…long were you in there?" she asked slowly.

Wyatt rubbed the back of his neck roughly. "Not long. I just went in because I thought you were having another nightmare."

Lucy felt a little of the tension leave her body. Okay, so that wasn't too bad.

"—and you were calling my name," he finished hesitantly.

Never mind. It was exactly as embarrassing as she had thought.

A deafening silence filled the room before they both spoke at once.

"I know how that looks," she blurted out, "but—"

"Listen, you don't have to—"

They both paused and he chuckled nervously.

"Sorry, you go," he shook his head.

"It's not, um, exactly how it looks," she began. She hesitated, grasping for a way to explain.

Wyatt interrupted her train of thought with a firm, "You don't owe me an explanation."

"No. I know," she said haltingly crossing her arms over her chest. "I just don't want things to be weird. I mean, yes,  I may…have had a few of those dreams, but—"

"Wait, a _few_?"

Lucy's eyes widened.

 _Shit_.

Realization was dawning on Wyatt's face. "Wait. Was that…I mean is that what you've been dreaming about the past few weeks?" His eyes narrowed. "Was that why you were avoiding me?"

"Yes. I mean no," she sputtered. "Look…it doesn't mean anything. And it's not like those were the only thing I was dreaming about. I really have been dreaming about my accident too."

That seemed to give Wyatt pause. "Lucy…are these dreams giving you headaches too?"

"Yes, all of my dreams lately do," she responded with a shrug. "That doesn't mean anything."

"Yeah," he nodded slowly. "Dreams don't mean anything."

Except that hers might. Despite conjecture and the visit with Flynn, they still didn't have a clear picture of what was going on. The thought went unspoken but hung in the air between them all the same.

Nonetheless, Lucy's shoulders dropped a fraction as she exhaled. He was giving her an out, and she was grateful for it.

"Besides," he offered, casting his gaze to his feet while his cheeks reddened. "You don't have to be embarrassed. I'd be lying if I said I'd never had a dream like that before."

Lucy's eyebrows shot up. Okay, that was interesting. There was a thick pause, in which Wyatt's gaze moved from the floor back up to her face, the embarrassment fading to something unreadable. Lucy felt her pulse quicken, confusion and something else entirely swirling in her mind.

Her lips parted, nearly on the verge of asking him to elaborate, when a ringtone cut through the tense atmosphere. Lucy could hear her own emanating from her room. They both went their separate ways automatically, each reaching for their devices. On Lucy's end was Agent Christopher, calling them in. Mourning the loss of potential sleep, Lucy quickly ditched her robe and pajamas for a pair of jeans and a sweater. When she returned to the living room, Wyatt had pulled his jacket back on and was in the middle of tugging on his shoes. He held out her coat to her, and she took it with a smile.

There would be no more sleep tonight, but Wyatt didn't mind.

Frankly, he doubted he'd have been able to anyway.

*

Wyatt squinted into the shadowed room, barely illuminated by the meager lighting offered by the kerosene lamp in his hand. Travelling back before electricity was always kind of a pain in the ass. According to Lucy, it would be another five years before Thomas Edison created the Edison Electric Illuminating Company of New York and began the slow process of bringing electricity to American homes, an anecdote she had happily shared in hushed tones on their way to the target location.

She had then deftly swiped a kerosene lamp from a nearby windowsill and pressed it into his hands with a small smile. "For now this is the best we've got."

Wyatt wasn't sure if he'd been successful in hiding how impressive—and attractive—he'd found the move, but his focus had quickly been refocused into breaking into the house with Rufus. Lucy had volunteered to wait just a little up the block and serve as a lookout, which Wyatt wasn't overly thrilled about, but they were short on time. They knew Rittenhouse was interested in the documents kept in that house, and it was hard to say exactly how much time they had before those assholes showed up.

The house appeared empty, so they went right for the study, shuffling around in the drawers. Wyatt bent over the desk drawer to shed more light on the papers within.

"So," Rufus spoke up suddenly. He cleared his throat. "Are you and Lucy a thing now?"

Wyatt nearly dropped the kerosene lamp he was holding. " _What?_ "

Rufus shrugged, trying his best to look nonchalant. "You were at her apartment in the middle of the night when I called you. I could hear Lucy talking in the background. _And_ you guys showed up in the same car. Not to mention the fact that you've both been acting really weird lately, even for you guys." Rufus' eyes flicked to Wyatt's with laser-like focus, and this time he wasn't bothering to hide his grin. "So, is it happening?"

"No! Rufus. It's not like that."

Except, he wasn't entirely sure that was true. Lucy had inadvertently dropped a bombshell on him earlier. She'd been having vivid sex dreams. Repeatedly. About _him_. Were they part of whatever was happening to her or were they just a coincidence? If they weren't a coincidence, what did they _mean?_ He had gotten the impression ever since they had climbed into the Lifeboat that she was trying to gloss over earlier and pretend nothing had happened—and he could respect that. He didn't want to pry. But it didn't mean that he didn't have a hundred questions swirling around in his head. Wyatt balanced the lamp carefully on the desk and avoided Rufus' gaze, shuffling through the pile of papers."I'm helping her out with…a thing."

"I bet you are," was the scoffed reply.

"Rufus!" Wyatt turned, his eyes wide with exasperation. "How about we do the job first and talk about this later? Or never. Rittenhouse could be here any minute."

"Right. Yeah." Rufus hurried across the room to help. "But, you'd _tell_ me if anything—"

"Rufus!"

*

Lucy shifted on her feet, trying hard not to step on the hem of her heavy dress as she nervously scanned the people moving about the street. Though the sun was rapidly setting, they were in a district best known for theatre and other after-hours entertainment. With Rittenhouse somewhere around, the crowded streets were both a blessing and a curse. Easy to hide in, but easy to miss someone.

She smiled politely at an elderly gentleman who tipped his hat at her and then cast her gaze back up the busy street. Rufus and Wyatt needed to hurry; Emma could show up at any minute. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of red hair.

 _Speak of the devil,_ she thought, jaw clenching in contempt.

Lucy turned her gaze to see Emma stepping out of a horse-drawn carriage, followed by a man she recognized as one of Emma's frequent companions. Emma didn't appear to have noticed her, instead pausing to whisper something in the man's ear. For a moment, Lucy contemplated hiding in the crowd moving up the busy street to get to the house and warn Rufus and Wyatt, but Emma's sharp gaze was on her before she could move. The other woman didn't look surprised, but began moving to cross the road.

It looked like running was the only option now.

She turned and took one step before she froze in place, stopped short at the sudden blinding pain in her head. She heard herself gasp and felt her eyes water at the intense sensation, as though someone had driven something sharp through the top of her skull. Lucy felt as though the world was pitching sideways, the streets disappearing into blackness as her eyes rolled back in her head.

_She was in the darkness again, unable to move._

_The feeling of confinement, of overwhelming claustrophobia, caused her breath to quicken in her chest. Her fingers scrabbled at her front, finding the belt holding her in place. She gripped it, tugging hard enough that her fingers shook with the effort. She let out a panicked moan, tears flooding her eyes._

_Stuck._

_"Keep trying, Lucy."_

_Her mouth shaped the words, but they did not come from her. The voice was urgent, imploring._

_"Keep trying," he said lowly._

_She felt the world tilt again._

_Wyatt._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Kudos, comments, general shrieking about the finale, all are appreciated :)


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